Bent
by les deux it
Summary: Ch. 4 now up. Insecurity, a more common adolescent issue, is more than just a problem Claire Redfield faces. No one would ever think she'd be so negative. (A ClairexOC fic.)
1. Arrival

_He smiled at her warmly. "You sure you want me to go with you?"_

_Claire looked at him with a discerning eye. "I thought you said you had school business to attend to."_

"_Yeah, well," He chuckled, "I'd really hate to see you leave."_

"_Silly, I won't be gone forever. I'll come back." She explained._

_The young man sighed at the redhead. "Why can't he come to see you instead?"_

"_I'm sure he's busy with his job. Besides, I wanted to give him a surprise."_

_He looked at her. "A surprise, huh?" He began, "Watch him not be there when you arrive."_

_Claire rolled her eyes. "He better. It's quite a long drive."_

"_Tell me about it. I didn't let you borrow that motorcycle for wasteful purposes."_

_At this they both laughed together and soon found themselves in each other's embraces. It was getting late, and she'd be leaving in the morning. She'd be leaving him._

After grueling years having defeated Umbrella, sure enough of the fact that the company wouldn't interfere anymore in lives of innocent people, it was difficult to grasp the reality of the state of things as they were now. The idea of going back home and enjoying the remaining years of life was in fact a little unsettling to Claire Redfield, since she had come so adapted to assume that each passing day could possibly be the last. She was still alive, oddly enough as it sounded, and so were Chris and everyone else she had considered as family for the past few years. They fought together as a union bound together by the same ideals and insights, conscious of the same pain and anguish they all had presumably felt. They were the good posing as the force against the evil Umbrella had represented, and now that haunting shadow was gone. But now that the evil was vanquished, what held them, the heroes, together?

It didn't occur to Claire that at some point that their whole charade would end so abruptly, that it would leave them with the notion as to whether or not being with each other had anymore meaning. Fighting for the same cause was one thing, but all of them had prior engagements, other ties with family or friends they had to fix back home.

Such ties made her think of Sherry and Leon.

Claire sought to it that Sherry would be taken care of by her aunt when the whole ordeal was over, although Sherry herself had refused. Sherry would have rather stayed with Leon and Claire, who were more parents to her than any other aunt or uncle. Sure, Claire was pained on leaving her, but she knew it was for Sherry's safety. Indeed Claire had taken the role as a mother through Sherry's difficult time without her parents, and because of this, the little blonde girl had reminded of Claire so much of herself when she was growing up. Of course, Sherry was anything but a little girl now. She would be attending high school and leading a life that a normal 17 year old deemed to lead. Sherry was a strong young woman; much stronger than Claire could ever had been at her age. It was without a doubt that Claire was particularly proud of her.

And Leon. Well, Claire could talk endlessly about Leon Scott Kennedy. What could she say? She loved him, more than he or anybody else would ever know. It was when she came back from Antarctica that she had realized her feelings, despite previous events with Steve. And although Steve did admit his feelings for Claire, their short relationship wasn't based on overtly strong mutual emotions or anything beyond friendship.

It was fair to say that Leon had played an important role in Claire's recovery from misery and pain after Antarctica. It was plain fact. Over the next few years, they naturally became close but, as Claire had imagined, only as friends. She hoped so desperately that Leon had felt the same way about her as she him. That maybe together they could have lived at least peacefully with one another. After all they had so much in common…

In reality, was ignorant enough to even expect any romantic gesture from him. Not while a certain Ada Wong had left an impression on his heart. Thoughts of envy usually brewed itself in Claire's mind when it came to Leon and Ada's short-lived romance, but such thoughts she learnt to disregard and eventually let go. It made no sense to fuss over what wasn't hers—rather, what she didn't need. And she didn't need to feel hurt whenever she talked about Leon.

Yet, in the midst of things, there were times Claire admired the figure that was Leon, staring at him intensely without him realizing it. Times where she could not help but just think profoundly of her presence instead of Ada's. Claire thought of him and every aspect that made him, what he did, how he probably woke up in the morning. All of these actions were involuntary on her part, but that's because she was in love.

It drove Claire crazy to be so in love with a man in vain, especially since she was not the type of person to bestow sadness upon herself. Other women were usually successful in relationships whereas Claire found herself an infinite number of steps behind the rest. But what did it matter? Love was only momentary sentiment, or so Claire strongly believed. To love someone, that was all right, eventually that feeling dies out soon enough, anyway. She knew she wasn't missing anyway special.

It was all lies. Love was great, and Claire knew how good it was. Chris's love for Jill was an example of how great love was, although living with them proved to be unbearable for Claire. That's why she went on this trip, leaving Chris and Jill in their own home so they could do their own bit of "loving."

Home. That was an awkward word to say, even thinking about it made her question: Would she be remembered back there? She had left friends and a boyfriend behind. Claire didn't think there was much to go back to, not after disappearing so abruptly. What would they think? It was doubtful that they would remember her.

Yet she remembered a home long ago, but it was a mere blur in her mind, where her brother in his youthful gleam always smiled at her as she laughed, where a mother and a father had been there to tuck her into bed and kiss her goodnight. It was unbelievable that that had changed so quickly.

Claire never really dwelled about her parents. They were long dead ever since she was 10 years old. Although thinking of them usually made her depressed, she had cried her tears for them already.

Besides, motorcyclists didn't cry on the road.

It took her a lot of will to even drive all the way from Gainesville, Florida where she was originally staying with Chris and Jill to a small part in Coral Gables, Claire's previous residence. Claire didn't know why she had to go back, there was nothing of interest that could possibly have mattered to her, but there was this curiosity, this yearning of what had happened to those she cared about then. It had been 5 hours on the road…her ass wasn't driving all the way back.

Suddenly a knot formed in Claire's stomach. She was nervous. But of what? The past? She was only going to visit, not stay, so there would be nothing to worry about. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She felt herself calm down a bit.

But as she drove through the quiet road sided with familiar residences she had seen before, the knot in her stomach throbbed more violently. She was actually here. Here, where she used to live.

All she needed to find was that single building amongst the many. However, it didn't take her too long. She recognized it faster than she had expected herself to. For that, she began to regret ever coming down here…

The rest of her movements were robotic, as if she had no control of her actions and no better options to resort to. Claire couldn't back away now, although her anxiety had generally gotten the best of her. She drove her motorcycle into the small, cramped driveway, taking the best space she could find to park and turned off the engine rather reluctantly. She sat there on her motorcycle, letting the feeling flow back into her ass when she herself knew she was only making excuse to stall. Only making this trip more unbearable. _Get up, damn you_, she thought to herself. With much self-refusal, Claire made herself get up. She didn't want to, but she did so anyway. The walk would be short.

Apartment 16, Claire remembered. She needed no paper, no reminder, for it never escaped her memory.

She wished that the number of improbable possibilities that she imagined were nevertheless true. Perhaps the person she was looking for had moved and wasn't living in the city. Maybe they died. Or maybe she was wrong about the address…any excuse just to go back, really.

_Only one way to find out_, Claire sighed as she stood there at the door. The number 16 in chrome lettering was posted familiarly on the door, mocking her for her silly worries.

She knocked three consecutive times, each knock stabbing at her heart in some odd way. After a few painstaking moments Claire figured no one was home.

But then, to her misfortune, she heard steps from behind the door. The sound became gradually louder until the locks of the doorknob became unlatched. An aged female figure stood before Claire, eyes agape and face atoned with disbelieve.

"Oh my God…" The woman breathed in her own peculiar manner, "Claire Redfield, is that _you?_"

A/N: Well, I hope you all enjoyed it. I always imagined that Claire had people she left behind before embarking to Raccoon City. Any suggestions you might have I'll be happy to hear it. I'll post again as soon as possible. Thanks and please R/R! Tell me what you think.


	2. Reminisce and Departure

That woman, the figure that symbolized the utmost discipline and emphasized principles of maturity and respect, was she. Although the correct title would be a guardian, this woman was more like Claire's mother. A strict one at that as she now remembered. However, like a crumbling statue it could be noted that the woman's demeanor had changed drastically. The older woman's brown eyes had watered upon unexpectedly seeing Claire at the door, and without an instant to delay, wrapped the younger woman firmly in her arms.

Claire inhaled profoundly, having been suddenly overwhelmed in emotion, too. Throughout the years, Claire had forgotten how nice it felt to be hugged by someone significant other than her brother, but with this woman it was an act performed much more differently. It was an act by means of an intense and sincere sentiment, a short moment with more importance especially after all this time. Claire of course wasn't just standing there; her arms were wrought tightly around this woman, feeling the warmth that radiated between them.

"Julia…" Claire whispered. She did not forget even after the many times she had tried. Of course, she _couldn't, _for if she did she'd be forgetting a large part of her life.

Julia separated herself from Claire, yet this time each of her large and calloused hands found a place upon Claire's cheeks. The elder woman gazed at her, tears watering her vision as a rather sad smile began to form on her face. For some reason, this startled Claire. She never remembered Julia being this gushy over seeing her, never remembered sharing such an intimate moment like this. But Claire supposed surrogate mothers were peculiar in their way. Claire simply reciprocated with a smile.

"It's so good to see you alive," Julia chuckled. "Of course you're alive. What matters is that you're well. Come on inside."

It felt strange to be going inside Julia's apartment again, not because of the lengthy hiatus in returning, but of all the positive memories that triggered before Claire's eyes. The quaint kitchen was obviously there, which was a funny thing to observe first. Claire never cooked in this household, never cared to, but after having seen Julia's culinary mannerisms as a kid, Claire did not watch in vain. She remembered herself tipping on her toes as she poked her head in between Julia's arms just to see what the older woman was up to, asking enough questions to drive anyone mad. Claire always complained that the darn counter was too tall, and Chris would make fun of her shortness. It must have been a constant battle dealing with the Redfield siblings, but Julia never said anything. Never even yelled. That was her nature. No burden seemed to be too big for Julia.

The small dining table hadn't changed, but it clearly wasn't how Claire remembered it. A place set for four: Julia, her son Jonathan, Claire and Chris. The fruit centerpieces that Chris used to fool Claire seemed faker than real, the placemats looked less elegant than what they used to. Perhaps it was the older Claire that had learned to minimize the majestic properties in simplistic items the younger Claire used to admire. This whole apartment, which had appeared like a large castle then, had now seemed anything but awe inspiring.

"Why don't you sit down?" Julia asked, sounding more like a stern suggestion than a question, "You want anything to drink?"

"Some water would be nice." Claire sat at the dining table. Her seat had become so cold after so long.

Moments later Julia returned with the water.

Claire smiled down at her glass. "You've kept these. I'd thought you'd change dinnerware by now."

Julia shook her head. Claire noticed the gray hairs that had multiplied a tenfold since long ago. "Nonsense. I like my things old. But if I had known you were coming here I would have bought something prettier."

"No, these are just fine." Claire ran her hand through her hair. She sighed heavily out of sudden grief. "I…I'm sorry to give you such a shock. I should have called to notify or something, it didn't mean to make you sad or anythi—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Claire." Julia said as she placed her hand on top of Claire's affectionately. "I've been wanting to see you again for the longest time ever since you left…"

"…So you found out about Raccoon?"

Julia sighed. "I did. Ever since then, I didn't know if you were alive or dead anymore…"

Claire didn't say anything of the matter, only stared at her untouched glass. She didn't want to retell the events of Raccoon City again; it would only cause pain for the both of them. To think, a visit to another town that would have only lasted two weeks turned out to be at least 5 years. Claire had been so busy those years. Taking care of Sherry, searching for Chris…it would be quite a story coming from her. Whatever the circumstance, Julia had a right to hear what happened.

"You could have had the decency to call me, Claire. Anything. Do you have any idea just how worried I was? Didn't you think I cared?" The older woman's voiced began to quiver. It sounded like she might cry again.

Claire rubbed her temples, as her eyes were clenched shut. She didn't mean to cause this aura of gloom. "I know, I know. I know you wanted to know. I was just…" Claire sighed, "I'm sorry. I should have called you. I know I _should_ have. But so many things have happened, and I'm sure you want me to tell you…"

Julia stared at Claire's distressed frame. "I expect you to."

"I know, but please. Not now. Just not now."

A minute's silence passed between them. "Aren't you going to drink your water?"

"Oh. Yeah." Claire finished the glass and handed it back to Julia. She went to the kitchen and soon returned.

"I assume Chris is fine." Julia said.

Claire shrugged. "Chris is ok…Busy with his job and stuff. He got married 4 months ago."

Claire noticed Julia's hand we're clenched together, pressed against her mouth as if suppressing a cry. Her eyes watered once more. "I'm very happy to hear that." She managed to say.

_Great move, Claire, _she thought to herself_, you didn't tell her about Chris's wedding! Now she's going to cry again!_

Julia tried to hide her grief with a chuckle that should have been pitied more than laughed along with. Judging from Julia's eccentric reactions, maybe Claire shouldn't have ever come to this place to impose talking about issues that in the end turned out to be depressing…

"I'm getting worked up for no reason. I'm sorry, Claire." Julia apologized.

"You shouldn't be sorry. I'm the one that messed up." Claire replied.

"I'm really glad you came, Claire. Everyone has missed you, believe it or not. You thought you didn't have friends anymore, did you?"

"For a moment I thought everyone had forgotten about me. It's probably for the better. I mean it's been years, right?"

"You have no idea how wrong you are. You haven't been forgotten…" Julia said. "_He _especially hasn't forgotten you." She smiled.

Claire frowned. "Who's "he"?"

"You know."

"No, I'm afraid not."

Before Julia could continue, the front door was thrown open revealing a young raven-haired man in some particular uniform. He twirled his keys with his index finger in an arrogant manner and yelled: "Mom, your precious son has arrived! You won't _believe_ what happened to me today!"

He zoomed passed Claire and Julia without making a considerate stop to look at one of the two. Opening the door and entering one of the bedrooms, he continued on. "George is gonna hook me up with a guy who can cut me a deal with one of those cars I've been wanting. You know, that old Ford I've had my eye on. He said he'd made arrangements so I can meet the guy. Once I get the car, oh man, wait till you see what I've got in mind for it. I'm gonna paint it some nice color. Gonna fix it up really good. What color do you think, mom? Blue? Blue is your favorite color, but I think blue isn't very popular nowadays. It's all those metallic sandy colors now, you know, with those crazy names that aren't even real colors people know. Like _burnt sienna_ or something like that. I can't really tell you how it looks like, but you know browns are pretty much all alike.

How about we go out for some dinner, mom? Tonight. On me. Does that sound ok with you? We can go to that restaurant you wanted to go, that one, you know what I'm talking abou—Oh my God…"

As he finished up is truly lengthy, and, yes, quite thorough, monologue, he had been exiting the room with a new set of clothing, ready to take a look at his mother for the first time upon entering. Intentionally or not, instead his eyes landed on Claire, or what probably must have been Claire because it seemed as though, judging by the incredulous look on his face, that he had confronted some type of phantom from his nightmares. He leaned on his hand against the wall as his other rested on his hip. He peered at her closely.

"Claire? Claire Redfield?" Asked he.

Claire nodded wittingly and smiled. "Jonathan."

He gasped in amazement. "Oh man, come here!" He exclaimed as he ran over to her with open arms. They caught themselves in each other's arms and held each other unyieldingly, but no matter how hard they tried, their hug alone could not compensate for their years apart. They swayed as they stood, exchanging friendly words and extended greetings until Claire herself felt she was about to cry from excessive joy. How Jonathan had _changed._ So much in fact, Claire couldn't believe she was taking to the same person. He was her second brother, her best friend growing up. She hadn't realized how much she missed him until this very moment.

He smiled brilliantly, unleashing his happiness the most he could. "Look at you! My God, you've changed so much!"

Claire smiled just as radiantly. "I should say the same thing to you."

"Oh man, have we got lots to talk about." Jonathan turned to his mother. "I'm gonna take Claire for a ride around town, if you don't mind."

"But she just got here!"

Grabbing his keys and without waiting for a quick or adequate response to his liking, Jonathan grabbed Claire by the arm, dragging her out the door and back outside.

A/N: Wee! There it is! Ch. 3 coming soon!


	3. Every You, Every Me

A/N: I forgot to mention that words in italics represent thoughts and/or flashbacks.

It got into his head that he absolutely needed to go to the car exhibition in Daytona Beach, which was at least 6 hours on the road from home. It would be on a Friday and Claire refused to go, complaining that she had a research paper to do and that she didn't want to miss her job the next few days. But to tell Jonathan this was more like talking to a wall than a human being. Reasoning had never been more useless on a man, much less this particular one. They were both 17 at the time, but it was apparent that Claire hadn't been as hardheaded as Jonathan was back then.

"_I told you, I am _not_ going to that stupid car show." Claire said firmly. It had been the seventh time Jonathan had pleaded. "Why the hell don't you just _buy_ car magazines and read about it?"_

"_Read about it? You can't just _read_ about cars. What exactly do you think I am, Red? An idiot?"_

_Claire nodded fiercely. "Yeah, I kinda do!"_

"_Don't be such a fool, this is a once in a lifetime event. I know you wanna go! Besides, when was the last time we ever bonded with one another, huh? I think you need a break from school, from work, and maybe that boyfriend of yours!"_

"_Oh, shut up." She was about to leave him in the room when he grabbed her by the arm and turned her around to face him once again._

"_Listen, please! Come on. We'll leave tomorrow in the morning, be there by the afternoon, enjoy the sights and be back by Sunday. What do you say?"_

"_Hmm. Let me think," She stroked her chin in thought. "No."_

"_You're gonna go whether you like it or not, Claire, and that's final." Jonathan said menacingly. She had to go. Going alone without her would be pointless._

_Claire grunted in annoyance. "Don't you have other friends to go with? Why me?"_

_Jonathan put on a face of utter hurt and dismay as he mockingly gasped out in surprise. "How can you say that? You're my only friend!"_

"_Yeah, I can see why…do you know you're annoying me?"_

"_I wouldn't be annoying if you would just agree! Look, you're going so stop fighting."_

"_Well, I'll ask Julia and see what she thinks abo—"_

"_NO. No. No. No. No." He shook his head fiercely. " My mom can't know about this."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because she doesn't think we're 'old enough' to go anywhere ourselves…" He rolled his eyes. "If we're ever gonna do anything fun we have to take risks. She can't know about it."_

"_I'm afraid that's impossible. Either you stop bothering me about it or I'll tell Julia." That should shut him up._

_He sighed. "Oh no, my dear Red. That's not how I play…"_

_Thus, without any possible explanation, Claire had no idea how she let herself be manipulated. And of all people. She was sitting in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, already having endured 3 hours of endless talk, worn out Bon Jovi audiocassette tapes, and the boring scenery of trees and cows that passed by. She told her boyfriend about her predicament before leaving, and he only laughed, wishing he could have been in her place._

_They got there after what seemed like an eternity on the road, which was a surprise, because Jonathan had been completely lost and without a map. He refused to ask for directions, insisting that only ignorant people ask for others. He wasn't about to ask these strange northern Floridian people for directions. At that point, Claire didn't feel like yelling at him. He was such a stupid, stupid kid; he didn't know what he was doing. Instead, she got directions herself._

_After having spent a nice time at the car show, the trip back home had put things in a dark perspective. It was raining, and their car's front-right tire had ruptured. They had no replacements. No phone available. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere._

"_Great." Jonathan said miserably as he kicked the flat tire. Claire watched him from the partially opened window._

"_Well, we could always walk to a gas station." Claire suggested._

"_But it's raining…" He looked up and opened the palms of his hands toward the sky._

_She got out of the car, motioning the young man to follow her. "Come on, a little rain never killed anyone."_

_They both made it to a desolate gas station about 5 miles from the car. Soaking wet, they joked around on the way, poking fun at the idea that if by some chance someone, anyone, would kidnap these two annoying teenagers. Who in their right minds would want to? Asked Jonathan with a laugh._

_The rain became more of a downpour upon their arrival, but they didn't care. Being in the rain and laughing together was a true enjoyable moment…_

_They debated on whom to call so that they could get a ride home. Calling Julia was out of the question. They'd be in enough trouble with her soon enough. _

_Although she didn't wish to bother him, Claire had no better choice than to call her boyfriend. When she told him about their situation, he couldn't keep a straight face._

"_Ok. Don't worry," He said in between chuckles. " I'll be there soon."_

_For the next three hours, Claire and Jonathan waited, dreading over whatever Julia might say to them back home._

Claire was smiling so much she didn't even resist Jonathan's grip on her arm. There was no human way in stopping him, anyhow. Any resistance was futile, 'like fighting an ogre with a feather' as he would say. This was _Jonathan_, over impulsive, obnoxious, and stubborn Jonathan. When he had ideas, he'd put them into action regardless of any obstacle in his path. But for some reason Claire let herself be led by the guy; it had been a while since she'd been on one of his crazy expeditions.

"Ooh, is that your bike?" Jonathan asked, pointing at the motorcycle that was parked alongside the building. He ran up to it to observe.

"It's mine, alright."

"Impressive." He nodded. "Eh, I should have known you didn't like cars."

Claire rolled her eyes.

Jonathan's car was a few spaces away. It was the same old '96 Impala, the one in which its luster had long been gone, but it had seemingly underwent a few changes. Black exterior, Black tinted windows, a weird looking spoiler, and some tacky flame decals. It was obvious to her that he didn't know how to be a good consumer.

"Is that your pimp ride now?" Claire asked.

"It attracts the ladies." Jonathan smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking. It looks bad. But I'll be getting another one real soon. Hop in."

She strapped herself into the warm familiar seat. The leather had been worn out and cracked in a few places, exposing the white cushiony insides. The smell of cigarettes and cheap cherry air freshener lingered everywhere, the heat having made the air more thick in the closed compartment.

They were on the lonely, quiet road in less than a minute and Claire wasn't quite sure where they were headed. Although Claire enjoyed being back on recognizable terrain, she would have preferred to stay at his house with Julia where she herself could have rested. It was almost 10 o'clock. Besides, there would be time to do plenty later on. But perhaps he had something in mind for her; Jonathan was usually spontaneous like that.

"I'm so glad you finally came, Claire…" His face did not leave from the road. "I've missed you, you know…"

"Yeah, me too." Claire stared at her reflection in the side view mirror, her red hair swaying in the wind. _Yeah, he's thought about 'you'_, she said in her mind, _but have you thought about him?_ Thinking back, she hadn't. Was she so caught up in her own affairs that it didn't even cross her mind to think about the well being of her best friend? Was she that self-conceited? Was she that willing to forget about her past? It tore her apart to realize just how much she hurt him emotionally, indirectly or not, in her absence.

Despite the giddy and outgoing person that Jonathan was, Claire knew what type of person lay underneath the appearance. He was a sad boy, just like she was a sad girl, a fact that played a part in their close friendship. Julia at the time was a good friend to Chris and Claire's parents, and when she got news that they had died in a car accident, Julia did not hesitate to agree on taking care of the Redfield siblings. It was a distressing transition for Claire the most, to go from having both parents to none at all. There were numerous difficult things that took time getting used to, like having to share the same room with an apparent stranger.

Jonathan was somewhat on the same boat. He too had felt his share of pain having lost his father when he was 9 years old. Claire remembered seeing him for the first time when she moved in with him. He was overtly shy and hardly spoke to neither her nor her brother. He was a seemingly depressed and distant boy, as he would usually lock himself in his room for hours, lying on his bed as he looked at the ceiling, or doing whatever kept his mind off things. Claire complained about his boring behavior, often provoking an argument just to get a few words out of him. But, in any case, he would rarely utter a word. Julia often worried. Chris, being the eldest, was usually indifferent.

It was true that Claire never liked Jonathan when she fist moved in with him. Heck, she didn't like living with Julia either at first, or living in that stupid house, but as she got older she realized that they were both alike. They both searched for a friend, a companion of sorts, anyone in whom they could place trust and who would never falter on just being there for one another when the need arose.

They became friends. Claire assumed they still were, but after being separated for so long, she questioned just how far their friendship could possibly go. She just hope her presence here could make up for all that lost time.

Not aware of being in complete though, Claire snapped out of her trance. "Where are we going, anyway?" She asked as she looked over at him. He'd gone rather quiet.

"I'd thought we could stop by and see some people from high school and from college. I'm sure they'd be willing to see you."

"Yeah, but it's 10:30 already. It's late," Claire sighed. "How about we go another day?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm kind of tired." She waited for him to repudiate her answer.

"Well, alright then." He unexpectedly conformed to her answer. _That was surprising_. "Let's go for a drink. On me."

"Sounds good."

The rest of the ride was silent. Being as such irritated her since it made everything seem so serious and depressing. Yet wasn't her life serious and depressing for the most part? Claire always found herself miserable, whether she was around Chris and Jill, Leon, or even Sherry. Thinking about them always brought up unpleasant thoughts in her head, it was even worse when she thought about Leon…

_He doesn't want you,_ _Claire,_ she tried to comfort herself, _and you don't need him._

They got to the closest bar they could find. The closest but indeed not the best. There was nothing particularly special about the worn-out place. However, the most important thing was that she felt at home. They proceeded through the rear entrance, grabbing seats at the dimly lit counter. Being the only woman inside, the awkward sense of wandering eyes came upon her. She figured quite a substantial amount of lonely men are out tonight.

_Maybe I'll find myself a husband,_ she joked.

Claire asked the bartender for a hard drink given that she wasn't too knowledgeable on alcoholic beverage names. Anything that burned her throat as she drank was good enough.

"So how have you been, Jon?"

"I've been ok." He shrugged. "Working a lot."

"What do you do nowadays?"

"Me? Well…I sell computers at Circuit City."

Claire laughed. "That's awesome."

"Oh, yeah." He twirled his index finger. "A 26-year-old male selling computers. That's gonna get me rich."

"Money isn't the most important thing in life, you know." She said as she smiled.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Honesty, Modesty, and Integrity. Isn't that right, sensei?"

Claire giggled. "So you've learned, grasshopper."

"How about you, what are you doing?"

"I work for some company there." Claire shrugged. "Business and financing. Not exactly fun, but it pays well."

"I bet. I need to get myself a job like that." He reflected. "You were always the smarter one, Claire."

"Oh, nonsense…"

Jonathan looked at her seriously. "I'm not kidding."

"If I had the least bit of intelligence in my brain, I would have come down here sooner…" She stared down at her drink, suddenly feeling pangs of guilt. "If I were any smart, things would be a lot less different…"

"What do you mean?"

Claire shook her head. "It's nothing."

He sighed, slightly annoyed at Claire's constant distress over trivial matters. "Claire, we're not mad at you, if that's what you're wondering."

"I just…I didn't want to bring a shock to your mom. Or to anyone else. I didn't come down here to burden anyone with my presence."

"Oh, shut up. Just shut up, Claire. What the hell do you know? You and Chris have been in our minds since, like, forever. And not just us, everyone from college."

Claire closed her eyes in thought. "Really, like who?"

"I'm not about to go over names, Claire. There's plenty, trust me."

Claire furrowed her eyebrows at him as if to say, _Whatever._

Jonathan sighed, and asked for another drink. After a while's silence, Jonathan began to talk once again. "He missed you terribly, I hope you know."

"_He?"_ Claire emphasized.

"Yes, _he._ Erick, remember? You know, your always devoted lover." He laughed. She didn't. Instead, her heart froze in her chest as a rather cold chill ran down her spine. Why was she getting all worked up for?

"Is something wrong, Claire?"

She regained her composure, clearing her throat. "No…"

Jonathan sipped up the last of his drink. "Good. Let's get going."

Once in the car, they were in no hurry getting back home, although it was late into the night. It felt as if as though they were both teenagers again out on the road, already past their curfews, cautious of getting caught and being taken home by the police. The Bon Jovi tape Jonathan randomly stuck in the radio brought so many memories, they couldn't help but laugh. Who knew Livin' On A Prayer was such an entrancing song. Of course, teenagers they were no more, and when they realized that it was pretty late to be driving around, they really started to head home.

Once they entered the apartment once again, Claire's tiredness really began to kick in. If she didn't take a shower and went to bed at that very instance, it felt as though she'd fall on her face at any second.

"Yeah, I'm kind of tired too. Let me show you to the room." Jonathan offered.

He opened the door. Before her laid the room. _Her_ room. There used to have been three beds in there, one next to each other, but the arrangement had changed some. There were two beds this time, but Claire's had still remained next to the wall opposite the other. Her bed had been made and untouched; the pink sheets and purple pillows were still intact and placed into neat accordance. A little nightstand where her alarm clock was placed was still there, along with the other miscellaneous stuffed little toys and picture frames. There were posters around her section of the room; various music celebrities from the 80's. Her half of the room was like a picture image from the past. _It was if as though I never left, _she thought sadly. Claire continued to stare. She used to sleep _here_.

"Why did she keep my stuff?" There was a small quiver in her voice.

"She refused to move anything." Jonathan quietly said. "She said it reminded her of you, as if she knew you were gonna come back…"

Claire didn't respond. "I'm going to take a shower. Good night I guess."

She left Jonathan to himself. Her shower wouldn't take long. She made sure the water was cold, or she would be under the water with her head leaning against the tiled wall, thinking. Thinking about a number of things.

When she got out, the house was entirely silent though the only resonance she could hear was Jonathan snoring from within the room. Claire approached his sleeping form. It wasn't the 26-year-old male Jonathan whom she saw sleeping so soundly. She saw at that moment the child she knew and grew up with. He was a little boy, so innocent and yet so full of grief. Just like her.

She went toward her own bed, pulling aside the few layers of pink sheets and crawling into the soft covers. Grabbing one of her frilly pillows, she turned to her side, where the nightstand was. In her view, right behind the alarm clock there was a picture frame. Within it there was a picture of 4 cheerful looking people. Julia, Jonathan, Chris and Claire all smiling. As warm tears slid from her eyes while clouding her vision, she felt a smile form on her lips too.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please tell me what you think.


	4. Magic's in the Makeup

_"Claire. Claire?"_

_It was an echoing at the other end of a long corridor. From afar, Claire could faintly make out the calling of her name, a ripple like echoing of a sound. Her dream so far had been a pleasant one, of flowers and all those pretty things she liked, but the voice stopped her in midst action. It was repetitive as it was annoying for it was disturbing her concentration. Whatever it was, it better shut up._

_"Hey. Hey! Wake up, man."_

_Her eyes darted open, her mind back into reality only to find Jonathan's face looming over her. He smiled joyfully while she frowned, disappointed._

_She turned to her side, grasping her bed quilt over her shoulder as she snugged her head deep in the folds of her pillow. "Leave me alone, Jonathan," She grunted. "It's early."_

_"Nonsense! It's never too early for…" In his hand he positioned a small red box beside his face as he pointed on the emphatic picture with a particular food item. "These!"_

_Huh? She looked over her shoulder, mildly surprised to find a box of—"Pancakes."_

_He nodded, like a hyperactive little kid, in agreement. "Now, get off your ass and let's make some."_

_Sighing, she responded, "Why don't you do it?" Claire closed her eyes again, holding her blanket tighter and trying to block out his voice._

_He let his arms fall loosely, letting his head hang in mocking defeat. Claire was no fun, no fun at all, even in the mornings. "I hope you know that I won't be making you any and that you'll have to watch me eating a delicious batch of pancakes when you wake up."_

_She pondered this, registering his remarks to catch the overtones of his sarcasm. Was it really so hard to make pancakes alone? She gave in. "Alright, fine. Go. I'm going to the kitchen"_

_With this, he took her leave._

_As she sat on her bed, she stretched out her limbs, yawning loudly and scratching her stomach in the process. Her eyes hurt in the usual morning way, her vision clouded up by remaining sleepiness left within her. She blinked a few times to get rid of the fogginess, but this seemed to make it worse. Claire noticed it was 5:30 in the morning, Tuesday. Her body immediately fell into a pit of dismay, realizing that Jonathan woke her up on a Tuesday, a school day, at 5:30 in the morning._

_'School, school, school…' Her mind repeated. She hated school. Well, not entirely, but she hated it enough._

_She headed for the bathroom..._

_The lights had set of a stingy off-white paleness that strained Claire's eyes, forcing her to blink hard for a few seconds. It was a rude sign, which reminded her that she wanted to go back to bed. Not only that, but the floor was cold against her bare feet. The mirror greeted her at first hand, and upon observing her frame, she saw how unruly her red hair had turned. Claire tied her frayed bed hair into a more secure ponytail, then rubbed her face with her hand, chafing out the small crusts in her eyes. Gray eyes people always said they liked. It was funny just how people noticed what she was instead of who she was. But Claire didn't have to worry about that with 'him.' _

_As she brushed her teeth, toothpaste foam and all, she looked at her reflection. Like most girls, she was insecure about her appearance although there were no apparent reasons for lack of self-confidence. Her hair was red, not orange-like but red, a color even Julia liked. But Claire hated it, she would rather dye it something more "normal" and commonplace. And her nose. It was so weird, so oddly shaped. She vowed to Julia that she would undergo plastic surgery and fix it, anything to make it better, but Julia refused on such an idea._

_"Really, Claire," Julia would say. "You should like yourself for who you are." That was the problem. Claire didn't._

_Claire's boyfriend would agree with Julia on that matter. Of course, he HAD to. He was her boyfriend. He would never want her to change herself; he adored everything about her already. There was no need in altering anything._

_Claire begged to differ. Chris would preach otherwise, often making Claire feel worse about herself. Chris was known for being handsome. In any case, it was he who usually made fun of her as a kid for having red hair whereas he, mom and dad had sported the brownish hair._

_"Yeah, Claire. You sure did get all the weak, recessive genes," He laughed._

_It used to make her cry when he said this to her, but now, as she rinsed her mouth off at the faucet, she tried to suppress a chuckle. Stupid Chris, that idiot. She missed him so much…_

_Too bad he was gone…_

_A loud clang came from the kitchen, followed by a succession of more clashing of cookware. Jonathan cursed in the distance. He had seemed to be wide-awake, more like having been injected with an infinite amount of caffeine in his system. The only reason she as well got up was because of the pancakes. It generated a far off memory of her childhood, recollections shoveled up in a heap of occurrences long forgotten. Claire absolutely loved pancakes, especially when her mom had made them. Even so, Julia's were ironically just the same. It was awkward how Julia did things in similarity to Mom. It was if as though she and Julia were the same person._

* * *

Eighteen years ago, Claire would have been eight years old and in the 2nd grade, or 3rd. Thinking back she wasn't quite sure. It would be on mornings like these that Carolina Redfield would go wake up Claire in her room, greeting her daughter with a warm smile, making mornings a bit better to endure. Such was her mother's nature; her grandeur was incomparable then, without equal and without rival. Claire remembered her mother carrying her about, proclaiming her pride for her small child and telling just how lucky she was to have had someone like her. Never was it a sappy kind of motherly love, the kind where the child usually was humiliated at the things parents did out of care, at least it wasn't like that to Claire. She was never embarrassed about talking about her mom and what she did. Claire loved her parents just the same as they did her.

Out of bed and in her pajamas, a typical morning would have been sitting at the dining table, her feet dangling over the floor, flaming hair in a tousled mess. George Redfield, a tall and yet docile man, would greet her just as warmly as he would plant a small kiss upon young Claire's puffy cheek and ask her how she slept. He always received the same answer in the affirmative, this he always knew, but he asked every morning either way. It was a gesture of true concern, something Claire noted later on. And Chris. Well, Chris was Chris and had _always_ been Chris. He would pull Claire's ponytail, teasing her for being scared of the dark and having to come over to sleep in his bed. Claire didn't want her parents knowing that, since she tried to pass herself as a responsible young adult who was capable of wearing make up. But still her parents treated her how an eight year old deemed to be treated.

That's how they were. A normal family leading an ordinary life, doing typical things. Breakfast would then be served, compliments of Carolina. It was Claire's favorite. Blueberry pancakes…

Eighteen years sure did have an effect on the later Claire. Those mornings, which had been so customary, so routine and unchangeable, were now eliminated. Mom wouldn't be there to smile her dazzling smile, she wouldn't be serving breakfast or any of the other things a mother was supposed to be present for, Dad wouldn't be there as a safeguard for Claire's well being or as the teller of tales at bedtime. Chris would never be the same person; his interest in life after Mom and Dad's death had reduced drastically. There was no vibrancy in his gestures or in his personality. No spark of an emotion, he heeded not a sentiment. He had been emptied, emotionally and mentally, and it had taken a very long time for Chris to recover. But having thought this, Claire sometimes wondered if Chris had ever recovered fully. Or recovered at all. He claimed he was over it, that it had been too long ago to feel any sadness again, but Claire sensed that it still bothered her brother to think of their parents.

After the night's sleep, Claire woke and found herself looking at the ceiling, with one thought in mind.

_I hate him for lying to me._

He'd put up such a jovial persona throughout these years, always fake smile planted upon his face like a bystander without a worry, without grief. Claire didn't fall for it. She read him like an open book, seeing through the false appearance, realizing that Chris was the most miserable man she ever knew. And she felt sorry for him. But she didn't want to feel sorry for him. Chris was not a weak man. Perhaps the only thing he did not lie about was his gratefulness and devotion for Julia… This he mentioned to Claire and Claire only. Both Redfield siblings could agree that there could have been no better woman to take care of them than Julia. They owed her so much, at least Claire did.

She sighed, _what could I ever do?_

"Hey." Jonathan said lowly, interrupting Claire's looking at the ceiling. It seemed as though he'd been waiting for a long time. His eyes were deepened with concern but as he got her attention he smiled warmly.

"Hey there." Claire tossed her blankets aside and repositioned herself in order to sit on the bed, looking at up Jonathan. "How long were you watching me?"

"Long enough for me to think that you got paralyzed or something," He responded. "What were you thinking about?"

She shrugged. "Oh…nothing, really."

He snickered, not believing her words. "I figured you were awake already. You want to do anything today?"

"I'm not sure what exactly I'd like to do." Claire scratched her head and stared at her lap, as if contemplating it. "I'd like to do everything."

Jonathan placed his firm hand on Claire's shoulder, letting her know he understood. He had sensed the connotation in the way she said 'everything'. "Don't worry, there's plenty of time for many things."

She smiled, appreciative of his well-calculated response. "I better wash up."

Grabbing certain grooming commodities, Claire entered the small bathroom, barefooted. The stinging of the cool tiles against her soft feet made her alternate on standing foot, until finally a cool and numbness had come around. It was a process performed every morning when she lived in this house, which included a long session of staring at her reflection, observing her morning state. This she did. What she saw before her was anything but attractive. Claire sighed. She couldn't remember the last time anyone called her sincerely beautiful, although friends usually said most likely to spite her. But that's what friends were for, to make oneself feel better even though objectivity was lacking. She did, however, remember a person dear to her who told her things with sincerity, unlike her friends had. Someone…she forgot whom it was.

Claire wanted so much Leon to think she was attractive because she figured that's what he liked. He liked attractive women and she couldn't blame Leon for not noticing her. She couldn't blame him for falling in love with Ada…

Claire scowled herself. _Stop this self-pity, Redfield._

Claire had been a lover of make-up and any other face enhancing substance that existed. It had been an adolescent obsession, a trend among the other girls in her surroundings that had eventually sucked her in as well. Although she hid it from everyone else, make-up was a particular thing she liked despite her natural exterior. Clare didn't wear any, but as she looked at herself in the mirror, noticing rather obvious adjustments here and there that she could carry out, maybe it wasn't a bad idea to start attracting somebody…anybody…

She shook that thought out, thinking to herself, _you're not desperate. Remember that._

And for some reason unknown to her, Claire smiled diligently. It was difficult to do so. She'd lost all pretexts in smiling. But she knew insecurity shouldn't overcome her, a part of herself acknowledged that she wasn't so bad. At least to someone in this world, Claire's looks weren't so bad.

After having brushed her teeth, and having been dressed in simple attire, Claire sat at the dining table with Jonathan who had been anxiously tapping his knuckles against the surface. Julia could be heard scrounging around in the kitchen, doing whatever it was that she was doing. Breakfast most likely, she hoped. Claire was starving.

Julia came out of the kitchen, noticing that both her children were awake. "Good morning." She crossed her arms and looked at both of them. "I hope you like your eggs scrambled, Claire." It was unnecessary to ask, Julia already knew every one of Claire's food preferences.

She smiled. "I still do."

Moments later the three of them found themselves engaged in breakfast. Despite each other's company, they ate in silence. It was better like this, not talking, but only feeling the satisfaction that being together brought them. Why should words be involved only to spoil the very scarce happiness they shared? There was no need for it. Simply being there, as a family again reunited, only centimeters apart, was a good enough situation to be in. The tinkling of forks and knives against plates had filled them with an awkward peace, a realization that made them become aware that they were a puzzle once again complete.

"You know," Julia began as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'd like to cook something special for you for dinner, Claire. Anything you'd like?"

"Oh, don't worry about cooking for me," Claire looked at her and laughed. "If anything else, I think I should be the one cooking for you."

"I'd like to see that," Jonathan intervened.

Claire rebutted. "At least my food is edible, pancake man."

He rolled his eyes.

"Anyway...it's been a while." Julia's thoughts faded. "I would rather cook for you."

Claire shrugged.

"Anything?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know what I'd like."

Julia was beginning to get annoyed. Why did she make things so _difficult_? "Well, decide!"

"Claire was never good at deciding, mom." Jonathan said, getting up from the table. Having him say this, a sharp pain out of nowhere had struck Claire. She _was not_ good at deciding.

Julia faced the younger woman in order to grab her attention. "Why don't you go to the grocery store with Jonathan. That way you could bring me anything you'd like me to make." It was not a suggestion that should be argued. A "no" or "maybe" would not have been sufficient for Julia. When she said things, she meant it with sincerity. Claire only acquiesced lest the discussion became a silly argument over food. That had been common between Claire and Julia, arguments over trivialities in which in the end Julia would come out as the victor. It was not meant to say that Claire had ever been a rebellious child, quite the opposite. Claire was not like that, she was much more fearful of choosing. Her intermediate defiance was due largely in part by the fact that she simply never had the sense of domination over her life; it took her a while to understand that decisions she made were hers alone. Even if having to choose over what to eat seemed silly, it was a minute choice in her life, minute choices that would inevitably change the whole. That's what Julia tried to show Claire. Decisiveness.

The elder woman got up to give Jonathan the list of extra groceries she needed, whether or not Claire would get anything.

Claire herself moved to the sofa, and stretched out her legs. Just then, Claire heard the vibration of her cell phone in her back pocket. Phone in hand, the caller name "Chris" appeared on the screen. Without hesitation, Claire headed out the front door, figuring she'd take the conversation outside.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. Another update soon! 


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